


Moonshine

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Zayn, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, Top Liam, i guess, im not sure what else to tag this as, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s good to see you again, good to see you again / On top of the world, is where I stand when you’re back in my life / Life’s not so bad when you’re way up this high / Everything is alright, everything is alright / Moonshine, take us to the stars tonight / Take us to that special place<br/>That place we went the last time, the last time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonshine

**Author's Note:**

> ((i stole the title from a bruno mars song with the same name))

It's Zayn's heavy breathing that brings Liam back to earth. He's lying naked on his bed, head tossed back against the pillow and his mouth hanging wide open as hot breaths of air slip past his spit slick lips. Liam runs a hand up his calf, feels the hair slip through his fingers and stops once he reaches Zayn's knee.

It hurts, Liam thinks. It really does because Zayn is right here with him and he's so ready and he wants it but Zayn isn't his. It's stupid to think something so possessive, to want ownership of another human being who should really belong to nobody but himself, but Liam wants him. Usually it's fine because Liam and Zayn both know what they have and the limitations they need to put on themselves. They both know this is more than casual but they aren't really allowed to acknowledge that; not really.

It's just that it's Tuesday and they don't usually see each other on Tuesday because Zayn and Perrie always stay in to have dinner and watch that stupid reality show they love on TV. But Zayn is here instead of there and that has to mean something but Liam isn't sure of what.

“Li...” Zayn whispers, breath still hot and his chest still heaving.

Liam gives Zayn's knee a squeeze and maneuvers himself so his sitting on his heels between Zayn's legs. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

Zayn really is beautiful like this. Liam loves how trusting he is; the way he'll lay there all open and vulnerable with his eyes closed trusting Liam completely to give him exactly what he wants; what he needs. Liam's eyes drag over Zayn's body, pausing briefly where Zayn's cock is lying hard and swollen against his stomach. Liam licks his lips, feeling himself begin to salivate as he turns his attention back to Zayn's face.

“What do you want?” He asks.

Zayn licks his lips, cracks his eyes open to look at Liam. “Anything.”

Liam nods, leans forward, and spreads his palms over Zayn's thighs. He presses a kiss to Zayn's navel, his cheek brushing against the head of his cock causing Zayn to gasp at the sudden contact. Liam chuckles as he slides his hands up and over Zayn's sides relishing in the way the other boy shivers at the touch. This is what Liam loves more than anything. The amount of control he has over Zayn, the way he can reduce him to a wanton, quivering mess, through a simple series of touches.

Zayn isn't there yet, but Liam will get him there.

Liam is hovering over Zayn now, mouth a few mere centimeters from Zayn's and his fingers dancing patterns over along the length of Zayn's leaking erection. “Tell me,” he says in a low voice. “Tell me what you want.”

Zayn leans up a bit, his chin resting just above his collarbone. His eyes are a barely past half-lidded as he licks his lips. Says “You. Anything. I just want you.”

But Liam shakes his head. That isn’t what he wants. It is, but not really, because Liam wants more than just general declarations of want and desire. He wants _words._ He wants Zayn to say, out loud, what his body has been telling Liam for the past fifteen or twenty minutes.

“I know that,” Liam says smugly, pressing a kiss just below Zayn’s navel, the fine hairs trailing down to his groin tickling Liam’s lips. “How though? How do you want me? Tell me why.”

Zayn groans and throws an arm over his eyes as his head thumps back against the pillows. Liam can feel when Zayn’s chest heaves on a heavy exhale and he knows this is getting to him. Zayn isn’t exactly verbal in the sense that he just _talks;_ at least not like this, the way Liam is asking him to right in this very moment. Zayn prefers to show rather than tell. He likes to allow his body to react and tell Liam what he’s enjoying, when Liam circles his tongue around the head of Zayn’s cock _just right_ and his breath catches in his throat, hands gripping tight into Liam’s hair and he sort of just knows. Sometimes Zayn will sigh and small words and phrases of encouragement ( _“yeah, Liam, just like that” or “that feels so fucking good”_ ) will spill, whisper soft, past Zayn’s lips, but other than that Zayn is a quiet, silent lover. Liam doesn’t necessarily mind, but there are moments where he wants Zayn to let go and tell him exactly what he wants, exactly where he wants him, exactly what Liam is making him feel.

“ _Zayn_ ,” Liam urges, squeezing Zayn’s hips and nipping at the sensitive skin where Zayn’s balls are resting heavy between his thighs.

Zayn tenses, sucks in a breath and lets out a shaky exhale. “I just… _you,_ Liam, fuck. I don’t even know I just… I want you,” he says tossing his arm to the side in frustration.

Liam’s smile is smug as his hands slide up Zayn’s sides. He pushes his own body further up the bed, draping himself over Zayn and nips at his earlobe. “ _How_?” He asks, his voice low and thick and sending shivers down Zayn’s spine.

Zayn’s breath is hot and shallow against the curve where Liam’s neck meets shoulder as his lips latch onto the skin. It’s like Zayn doesn’t want to say it, to let on exactly how much Liam is getting to him because if Zayn were to say everything he wants (and he really does want everything) he might let a few things slip; things neither of them are quite ready to take on and acknowledge.

But Liam wants to hear it anyways. He knows what Zayn likes, what he doesn’t like, and the things that have a tendency to really get him going, but he wants to hear Zayn _say it._ He wants Zayn to tell him how much he likes to watch Liam look up at him through his lashes, eyes heady and full of lust, as he slowly wraps his lips around the head of Zayn’s cock, he wants Zayn to tell him about the images of Liam on all fours, resting his weight on his forearms as while Zayn’s fingers dig into his hips as he fucks into Liam over and over like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. How those images flood his mind while he lies in the bed he shares with Perrie and touches himself while she’s in the shower, careful not to be too loud, to Let Liam’s name leave his mouth out of the fear of being caught. How exhilarating it is to come and know it was because of the mere memory of being with Liam.

Liam knows, he knows it quite well, but he wants to hear it; wants Zayn to make it real.

When Zayn doesn’t answer him Liam trails a hand down Zayn’s naked chest. His nails catch and drag over a nipple causing Zayn’s breath to catch as he bites down on his bottom lip. Liam’s lips latch onto the skin just below Zayn’s ear, sucking just short of hard enough to leave a mark before soothing over the skin with his tongue. Zayn’s breathing is noticeably more labored, the rise and fall of his stomach becoming more apparent as Liam’s fingers skirt and dance around where his cock is lying flat against his belly.

“Want me to touch you?” Liam asks softly, his voice teasing.

Zayn swallows, nods his head. “Y-yeah,” he answers. “Touch me, Liam, please.”

“Here?” Liam questions, walking two of his fingers around the gaudy heart on Zayn’s hip.

Zayn groans in frustration, shakes his head before forcing his eyes to meet Liam’s. “You know where,” he says, trying to keep his voice even, but Liam can feel the desperation pushing through.

Liam bites on his bottom lip, playing at something resembling innocence even though he and Zayn both know he isn’t fooling anybody. “No…” Liam starts, pressing a quick peck to Zayn’s lips. “I don’t think I do. I think you need to tell me.”

Zayn throws his head back against the pillows. “Fuck, Liam, my dick,” Zayn says his voice shaky and more desperate than he’d like. “I want – fuck, I don’t – you can do anything you want I don’t care just do something.”

Liam wraps a hand around Zayn’s cock, stroking it a few times before swiping his thumb over the head causing Zayn to sigh and sag into the bed. “Yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “A little tighter, yeah, just like that.”

Liam adjusts his weight on the bed, situating himself between Zayn’s legs so he’s eye level with the length of Zayn’s body. He can see the rise and fall of Zayn’s every breath, notices the way he tenses up when Liam uses his free hand to cup his balls, squeezing ever so lightly just before he licks a stripe up the length of Zayn’s cock.

“This what you wanted?” Liam asks him, peppering kisses along Zayn’s inner thighs.

“No,” Zayn says shaking his head, pauses, exhales. “But yes, fuck, Liam you could have don’t anything and it would have been exactly what I wanted.”

They’re words said in the heat of the moment, Liam can tell. Zayn’s eyes are hardly open and Liam’s mouth is hovering over his leaking cock. The situation is by no means romantic because Liam knows in the back of his mind that when it’s all over Zayn might stay for a few minutes to bask in the afterglow of a good lay, but he’s ultimately going to throw his clothes back on, fix his hair in the bathroom and make the short trip back to his apartment with Perrie.

But that doesn’t mean the words don’t’ hit him as hard as they do. They’re not exactly sweet or endearing; they’re not candle lit dinners and rose petals. It’s just… it’s the implication behind them. Liam could do anything, say anything, _be_ anything and it would be exactly what Zayn wanted just because it was him.

Liam’s heart seizes in his chest as he drops his forehead to the crease of Zayn’s thigh. “Shit, Zayn you can’t – you can’t say things like that.”

He can feel Zayn’s hand in his hair, the bed shifting as he sits up slightly resting his weight on his forearms. “Sure I can,” Zayn says. “As long as it’s true, right?”

Liam’s hand is still wrapped loosely around Zayn’s dick when he props his chin up on Zayn’s hipbone. He desperately wants to say those three words that would change pretty much everything, but the timing is all wrong. Now is not the time when Zayn’s gaze still feels hot and heavy and Liam’s own dick is straining and leaking inside of his briefs.

Liam swallows the words whole, forcing them down and away where they’re far less noticeable. When he chances a glance back up at Zayn he’s still looking like he wants his dick at the back of Liam’s throat, but he’s also looking like Liam’s the only thing of any real importance, like he’s the world and that’s one of the few things Liam doesn’t really want or need to hear – at least not now – and is more than happy to accept in soft, tender touches and harsh tugs to his hair.

“Yeah. I know, but you know what I want you to say?” Liam asks, forcing himself out of his head and back into things he’s more capable of handling. He sets up a steady rhythm with his hand on Zayn’s cock, licks the pad of the thumb on his free hand before reaching down between Zayn’s thighs to rub it teasingly against his hole.

Zayn gasps at the surprise contact, his eyes growing momentarily wide as he exhales long and heavy. It’s one of the things Liam loves most about getting Zayn in bed. He’s not extremely loud so much as he is soft sighs and sharp inhalations of air. Zayn will groan or moan here and there, but he’s never been one to wail or shout out. Zayn is intense in the way he’ll white knuckle the sheets as he comes, his mouth hanging open in silent exclamation that usually leaves him gasping for breath when it’s all over. It’s quiet and reserved – almost poetic, Liam sometimes thinks – and if you blink, you just might miss it.

“What?” Zayn asks breathily, swallowing as he stares intently down at where Liam is stroking him, his hips slowly rolling down into the mattress in an attempt to create some friction of his own. “How much I love your mouth on me? That I want you to finger me open nice and slow before you fuck me so hard I’ll still be able to feel you wrapped up inside me when I wake up tomorrow morning?”

He says it soft, tentative and quiet, but firm; like he knows exactly what he’s asking for. It’s something Liam thinks is so very Z _ayn._ He’s not ashamed of the words, Liam knows. He’s just not one to usually say them, declaring things like that and telling Liam exactly what he wants and how he wants it. It’s exactly what Liam had been aiming for, getting Zayn to open up like this and use his words in concert with his body. He can feel the need thrumming through Zayn, sees it in the bob of his throat and the hot desire in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Liam asks, applying more pressure to Zayn’s hole with his thumb. “How slow? Want me to take my time, use my mouth and get you so close to coming just to leave you hanging? And then I’ll do it again and again until you’re begging, yeah? Want me to make you beg for it, Zayn?”

Zayn bites down hard on his bottom lip, craning his neck to look down at Liam who can’t help the smug expression that makes its way onto his face as he sucks a finger into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue, before slipping it back between Zayn’s legs, circling around his hole, and slipping it in past the tight ring of muscle.

There’s a moment where Zayn’s brows knit together at the intrusion, something that happens each and every time they do this, followed by an expression of ease and satisfaction. Liam has never said so out loud, but it’s one of the things he loves most about being with Zayn: seeing the tension fade and melt away and then replaced with a feeling of pleasure and tranquility. It’s something Liam enjoys knowing Zayn is feeling because of him; because of something he has done.

“Fuck, Li, you have no idea…” Zayn mumbles, as Liam drags his finger out and twists back in, pressing another in alongside it.

Liam kisses Zayn’s hip, reaches down between his legs to squeeze where he’s still hard in his underwear. “ _Jesus,_ ” He breathes out under his breath before looking back up at Zayn. “Then tell me.”

“I just…” Zayn shifts, props his legs up on his heels and spreads them wide to give Liam better access. Liam groans at the view, watches the slide of his fingers at Zayn’s entrance before dropping his forehead to the mattress. “It’s just your fingers and I – it’s not even that it’s _good_ , I just – fuck.”

And Liam gets it. He’s hard and aching, leaking into his underwear, but he feels absolutely fantastic watching Zayn fall apart right in front of him. It’s almost too much seeing Zayn white knuckle the sheets, suck in breath after breath of air like he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, the way his eyes squeeze shut when Liam presses in a third finger without warning.

It’s not really that it feels good – even though it does – so much as that it’s them. This is something Liam only ever does with Zayn and Zayn only ever does with Liam. And Liam isn’t naïve; he knows that Zayn is fucking Perrie when he goes home most nights, but he also knows he’s the only one who gets _this,_ gets Zayn raw and needy with Liam’s fingers up his ass and begging for something more.

“Good, good,” Zayn pants out, reaching down to grip the base of his cock. He feels on the edge of coming and he knows he’d basically told Liam he wanted things to be long and drawn out but Zayn isn’t sure he wants to wait any longer.

Liam doesn’t object. He’d like to spend more time drawing this out and reducing Zayn into a limp, quivering mess, but the truth is he’s been hard for way to long and he’s not sure he can take it anymore. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Hold on.”

He’s jumping on the bed, pointedly trying to ignore where Zayn is lying on the bed, legs still propped up and spread obscenely wide, dragging his tongue over his lips as he works his cock over with his right hand. Liam doesn’t really look at that at all, nor does he stroke his own dick a few times at the sight of it after he’s dropped his underwear and made his way toward the nightstand where he keeps his condoms and a bottle of lube.

It’s far too long before Liam is gripping tight onto Zayn’s hips, dragging him down the bed a bit to where Liam is kneeling in front of him, and then reaching down to guide his cock toward Zayn’s entrance. Liam is staring down where he’s circling Zayn’s hole with the head of his cock, chewing down on his bottom lip because he knows that this is going to be over far too soon.

“ _Liam,_ ” Zayn urges, his voice weak.

“Yeah, okay,” Liam says, hooking Zayn’s legs around his waist and pressing in.

Liam has never really been able to accurately describe what it’s like being inside of another person. It’s sort of surreal knowing there is a part of you entering another human being.  With Danielle he remembers it being warm and sort of welcoming, but there was always this distance he could never put his finger on. But with Zayn, it’s an even more mind boggling experience. Being with Danielle was different, she sort of just let Liam in and there was no real fuss about it. Zayn was… Liam almost had to fight him. He’d try to work his way inside and Zayn’s muscles would clench and force him back out. Liam would get halfway in and see the lines in Zayn’s forehead and the harsh press of his teeth to his bottom lip and feel the need to stop and give him time. Getting fully seated inside of Zayn and feeling the warmth and the pulse of him wrapped tight around his cock made Liam feel like an invited guest; like Zayn was letting him in and telling him that it was okay. It was like Liam was someone special who had earned such an intimate privilege. And that wasn’t to say that Danielle had never been special it’s just that Zayn was… Zayn was different.

It’s only been a few seconds and Liam already feels as though he’s teetering on the edge. His hips are flush against Zayn’s and it’s overwhelming, the room feeling simultaneously too hot and too cold, Zayn clenching and twitching around him, and it’s all just so much.

“Zayn, I—”

“Go ahead,” Zayn says, his voice rough, nodding. “It’s – I’m fine.”

Liam doesn’t question him the way he normally would. Zayn had mentioned earlier about wanting to feel it in the morning – wanting to feel Liam in the morning when he wakes up wrapped in thick blankets he and Perrie had purchased from Ikea, to wake up and kiss her hello and know that Liam was still there in some way – so Liam would give that to him.

He pulls out slow, feels the drag of Zayn’s skin against his own, and snaps his hips back forward against Zayn’s. Liam can feel his balls slapping against Zayn’s skin as he repeats his actions over and over. His fingers hurt with how hard he’s holding onto Zayn’s hips and he knows Zayn will probably be pissed about it later (“ _how am I supposed to explain this to her?”_ ), and Liam will probably hate himself for it, but right now he doesn’t really care. All Liam can think about is the pleasure coursing through his veins and Zayn’s face, jaw slack and panting as Liam slams into him,

“H-harder, yeah?” Zayn says. “Said I wanted – oh, fuck – wanted to feel you in the morning.”

Liam is sweating and his legs are shaking and he’s not sure how much longer this is going to last, but he does as Zayn asks; swallows hard and musters up all the energy he has left in him and channels it into fucking hard and fast into Zayn.

“I’m not –” Liam cuts himself off with a harsh groan that leaves his throat feeling raw and overused. “Zayn, I’m not sure—”

“Yeah,” Zayn answers and reaches down to start fisting his own cock. “Me too.”

A few more snaps of his hips and Liam is coming, filling the condom and burying himself deep. He can feel himself twitching inside of Zayn and Zayn laughs a little when he notices it as well before cutting himself off as his mouth falls open and Liam’s name falls, nearly silent, from his lips as ropes of white cover his chest and stomach.

Liam sort of falls forward the position feeling slightly awkward since he’s bent at the waist and still nestled deep in Zayn’s body, but he can’t bring himself to want to move any time soon. There’s a spot of come lying on Zayn’s stomach near his face and he reaches up, swirls his finger through it before chuckling somewhere near the back of his throat.

“What’s so funny?” Zayn asks, laughing lightly along with Liam even though he’s not really sure why.

“I don’t’ know,” Liam answers. “Nothing, really. I’m just… I’m happy.” He runs his hands up and down Zayn’s sides, noting the finger shaped bruises beginning to blossom beneath his skin (but Liam won’t say anything about that; not yet).

Zayn smiles something warm and sweet and just for Liam. Zayn really isn’t his, but in that moment it’s almost like he does belong to Liam. He has this way of looking at Liam that makes him want to say and do things that he’s never done before. He doesn’t fully understand it, but Liam is pretty sure he knows what it means.

“I’m happy too,” Zayn says, reaching down to comb his fingers through Liam’s hair. There’s a bit of come left on them since he hadn’t really wiped his hands off on the sheets, but Liam doesn’t really care. They’re messy and that’s them and, in a way, it’s kind of perfect. “Fucking tired,” Zayn adds with a sleepy laugh. “But happy nonetheless.”

Liam grins, before hefting himself up so he can pull out, tie the condom off and toss it into the small trash bin near his nightstand. When he turns back to Zayn, he’s still lying flat on his back, staring at Liam with this sleepy smile on his face. He looks so at home and Liam really wants him to be – for this to be home instead of there.

“How long do you have?” He asks, settling back on the bed next to Zayn and tracing the tattoos at his collarbone with his fingers.

Zayn glances toward the clock on the nightstand, the bright red numbers reading 10:30 pm. “Maybe an hour or so, I think. I’d mentioned something about having a few beers after dinner with the guys.”

“Mm,” Liam answers, just to let Zayn know that he’d heard him before letting his eyes slip shut. He can feel Zayn’s fingers back in his hair and if he tries hard enough it’s almost like he’s somewhere else; in some alternate universe where Zayn doesn’t need to sneak out in the middle of the night and there are no publicized romances and complicated emotions that neither of them really know how to make sense of. It’s just them and their apartment and Liam’s head pillowed against Zayn’s chest with fingers in his hair and the comfort of a steady heartbeat in his ear.

There are words Liam wants to say, things he wants to get off his chest, but he swallows them whole, keeps them nestled deep within himself until a later date because right now things are good. They’re still messy and complicated, but Liam is still happy because Zayn is here instead of there and Liam has him; if only for an hour.

“Stay?” Liam asks quietly even though he already knows the answer.

Zayn kisses Liam’s forehead and Liam can feel him smiling into his skin. “Of course.”

And, yeah, as flawed and messy as they are, this is kind of perfect.


End file.
